


can you take away the darkness?

by iuniore



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (i uh. posted it on the wrong ao3 originally :/), (im a mess), (sorry for the repost!), Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, World of Ruin, written by a gay author so i Get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 12:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20275687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iuniore/pseuds/iuniore
Summary: “So,” Cid says. “You and that lady.”“What lady?” Cindy asks. “You mean Miss Highwind?”//or: Cindy and Aranea spend some time together.





	can you take away the darkness?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlitpurple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitpurple/gifts).

> hi! if you're wondering why i gifted this to you, starlitpurple, this was originally for the 2018 christmas event, which i dropped out of due to mental health issues. then i stumbled across this piece again and decided to finish it; who better to dedicate it to than the one it was meant for! i hope you enjoy :3 (also if you're wondering why i re-uploaded, it's because i originally posted on the wrong account im so sorry)
> 
> // title from 'i don't care if you're contagious' by pierce the veil

“So,” Cid says. His voice has the same familiar slur to it as always, though it’s twisted in a way that’s different; like how a fine wine changes with age, or how time apart from someone will lead you to discover someone completely new. Cindy hates how strange everything is but she’s far from living the worst life out there. Fixing cars is hard work, though it becomes almost easy when it’s your life’s passion that you’ve spent the last twenty-two years practising. She fixed-up her first engine when she was four, albeit with a little help. 

“So,” Cid repeats. He’s been doing that a lot recently. “You and that lady.”

His tone isn’t accusatory. If anything, it’s simply calm, a little curious in a good-natured way. It sounds a lot more gentle than anything has in these last few weeks, where everyone has put up walls and developed sharp edges. The smooth nature of it allows Cindy not to worry, at least not yet; her secrets still in the bag after all.

“What lady?” Cindy asks, continuing to fix up what’s left of their food supply into something edible. She makes a note of remembering to ask Prompto with help in fetching more from the stock, even if it means leaving the cars for another day. It’s too dangerous to go alone. “You mean Miss Highwind?”

Commodore Highwind— or Aranea, as her friends call her— has been visiting Hammerhead more and more frequently, as of late. It’s a common pit stop, always manned by at least four or five people, if not more, considering how popular it’s become.

Hammerhead is one of the only bases that remain out of the already established cities; the Meldacio hunter HQ remains, used as the main base to keep the hunters from overcrowding Lestallum, but Hammerhead is Hammerhead. What’s left of a once-lively repairs store is a _home _, or the remnants of one in a world of ruin.

Besides. someone needs to be there when the prince wakes up from his nap, right?

“Commodore Highwind…” Cid repeats, slowly. He seems to be thinking about something, his gaze turned down to the table. Cindy places his plate in front of him, along with some cutlery.

“Make sure you eat all that, y’hear?” Cindy commands, giving him a slight glare. “Don’t let me find you skippin’ meals again for work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cid replies, accompanied by a dismissive wave of his hand. The noncommittal nature makes her glare. “Tell me about her.”

Cindy snorts. “Y’wanna hear about ‘Nea?” Something about that is almost funny.

“You love her, don’tcha?” Cid replies. It’s not really a question, more a simple truth. Cindy turns a slight red, neither confirming nor denying the statement, though Cid already knows. “I could always read y’ like a book, y’know. Over since you went up to my knees. Don’t think y’ can hide someone you love as much as her from me, Cindy.”

“I ain’t hidin’ nothin’, Pawpaw,” Cindy says, sweetly. She avoids eye contact, despite her seemingly unaffected words. “You’re the one who never asked.”

She’s only half kidding. The relationship isn’t new, not by any stretch; they’ve been together for almost a year since the End of the World. It’s weird, not seeing each other all the time, but the visits are frequent enough that they can bear it. Aranea makes sure to stay for at least a week, or as much time as she can wrangle from the Daemons that she hunts. 

Still, bringing a girl home is still a foreign territory and, after all, Pawpaw— as she affectionately deems him— is old; the older they get, the more narrow-minded they become. She was always unwilling to test how true it is.

There’s no choice anymore. Apparently, she’s waited too long.

It’s not too harsh, being called out on a hidden romance, though it’s nothing like she expected. Since Cid doesn’t appear angry, she finds it much easier to discuss things. So much so that she can almost pretend that the feelings of panic aren’t crawling up her throat.

When Cindy finally brings her eyes up to meet his, she’s undeniably relieved to notice that he doesn’t appear ashamed. A tension lets out of her shoulders that she didn’t even realise that she held, and she whistles out a breath that soothes her. 

Cid appears to be thinking, eyes narrowed but not with foul intent. The butterflies, or whirlwind of them, in Cindy’s stomach don’t let up, not for a long while, but it starts to feel like a background sensation.

“Next time she visits,” Cid says, staring at her with eyes so loving, “Introduce her as your girl, eh?”

A few seconds pass, and then, “Sure, Pawpaw. I know she’d like that.”

~

It’s not a sunny day when Aranea returns but a warm one, which is as close as it gets to good weather. The stars seem to have disappeared, with only the eternal moon keeping the world beneath it company. Street lights shine up the place, a stark difference to the soft lantern-light that Cindy uses during the garage. 

A loud sound of an engine startles her from her work. With a rare burst of energy, she rushes outside, immediately blinded by the additional car lights— the Mythril ones, that keep away the monsters; one of the last sets they ever gave out— but her momentary loss of sight does nothing to wane the feeling in her heart.

The car door swings open with an audible clunk and out steps a figure, hitting the solid concrete with a _thud! _as they clamber out of the sturdy truck. The vehicle is one of the safest they have right now and it helps Cindy’s nerves to know who it’s with.

Aranea Highwind steps out into the light. Hair tied back into a tight bun, the light emphasises the gaunt features of her face. A scratch— or something that looks like a scratch, and not the alternative of a scar— runs from her forehead to her lower cheek, covering her nose. It appears raw and slightly infected, which explains why she’s earlier home than expected.

“Miss Aurum,” She greets, stepping forward. Biggs and Wedge materialise at her side, nodding once to Cindy, before heading inside with all the bags they can carry. It appears they’re staying for a while then; she makes another reminder to inform Prompto he needs to bring _more _food, if she’s going to be feeding a small army. “I must apologise for the lack of notice. Be assured that absolutely none of it was my fault.” Aranea says that in her posh, unnecessarily polite, _I’m-taking-the-complete-piss _tone and--

And Cindy can’t help but throw her head back and laugh. It feels like a Guardian has come back to her, or something of the sort. She’s sure the Astrals themselves could come down and bless her from wherever they decided to hide away and she’d feel nothing compared to the intensity she feels now.

“Miss Highwind, you’re forgiven,” Cindy replies. She can’t keep the smile from her voice, nor her face, if the bright-eyed look is anything of an indication. “Come on now, let’s get y’ inside, check that cut out.”

“This?” Aranea asks, pointing generally to her face. “Had a run-in with a Voretooth. Doesn’t take away from my dashing looks too much, does it?” Her voice takes a cocky tone, to which Cindy chuckles.

“Never.” She says and means it. Standing on her tippy-toes, she places a light kiss to her unharmed cheek. “Pawpaw knows, by the way. Figured it out, all by ‘imself.”

“About time, I’d say,” Aranea says it with nonchalance, though both of them know it’s long overdue. Then, she continues, unrestrained, “I’m proud of you. I know you were shy about it.”

“It went better than I expected.”

“Bet you were wondering why you were even worried about it afterwards.” Aranea sighs. “Wish I could have been there by your side.”

“Y’ here now, aren't cha?"

“I suppose that’ll have to be enough.”

They head inside then, hands linked as Cindy drags Aranea to where the first aid kit is stored. Aranea settles in one of the chairs, pulling another one over for Cindy, who’s currently searching for a light that’s good enough to work under. 

“Where did y’all go this time, then?” Cindy asks. She always curious about the state of the rest of the world but asking is often dangerous. The answer is never all that positive.

“Bunch of Daemons started causing trouble in the Vesperpool. Didn’t want the hunters to risk leaving the base unguarded, ‘cause it might have been overrun.”

“And the Voretooth?”

“Got us on the way back, of all things. Saw some travellers in trouble again, swooped in and tried to help."

Cindy doesn’t like the connotations behind that. “You’re a hero again, ‘Nea.”

“Not to them.”

“You are to me.”

A silence falls across the room. The faint sound of cotton buds gently wiping skin is the loudest noise between them, minus the faint winces Aranea releases when the disinfectant solution starts to sting. Cindy’s eyes focus, not missing a single detail, as her hands move as softly as they can.

And then she just stops and stares for a little, cupping Aranea’s face in her hands. She looks upon her with some sort of wonder, her thumb gently stroking Aranea’s cheekbone, where her freckles used to be.

“What’re you doin’ that for?” Aranea whispers. Her voice doesn’t break but it feels like it could if she thought about it hard enough. Touch is a rare thing for her— being a Niff mercenary didn’t really guarantee a comfortable bed to come home to, and deep bruises are hardly the kind of attention she desires— and it has only grown rarer with the darkness now manifesting in everyone’s hearts, dashing their hopes. 

“Huh?” Cindy asks, blinking slowly. It’s as if she hadn’t even realised she’d stopped. Before she can draw her hand away and pretend as if nothing had happened, a warmth covers it, keeping her in place.

“Didn’t say you had to stop, did I?” She grins. “You’re awfully cute, y’know.”

Cindy coughs, glancing to the floor. Fighting the urge to shove her face into her hands has never been harder. In the poor lighting, the blush that graces her cheeks can hardly be seen. “You’re mistaken, Miss. The cute one here is you.”

“Now don’t be undersellin’ yerself, Cinds.” A new voice cuts in. A rusty door swings open, creaking as it goes, revealing Pawpaw behind it. He’s holding his back in a way that tells Cindy that he’s just woken up and is most likely cranky, though Cindy only smiles apologetically.

“We wake y’ up?”

“Nonsense, kid. Bout time I’d be up an’ goin anyway.” Then Cid smiles. “Who’s this we got here, then?”

Cindy glances to where he’s looking— straight at Aranea, who’s holding back a laugh, making her face twist into a smile— and takes a few seconds before it clicks. “Oh! Pawpaw, meet Miss Aranea. Ara, meet Pawpaw.”

“I was thinking it was about time we met the parents.”

“This your girl, Cinds?” Pawpaw asks. He turns to Aranea. “She hasn’t been quiet about y’ f’the last month or so.”

“Pawpaw!”

“All good things, I’d hope?”

“‘Course. This one’s smitten.”

“‘M right here, y’know!”

“Of course, darlin’.” Aranea concedes, lifting up Cindy’s knuckles to bring them a kiss. “I’m gone for you too.”

Cindy falters. “H-Hey!” She doesn’t appreciate being ganged up on.

“We’d better be getting out of your old man’s way, don’t ya think?” Aranea asks, rhetorical. “I could go for a nap right now.”

Cindy blushes at the thought.

It’s early in the morning— or what’s left of one— but there’s nothing she’d rather do than lie down with that girl in her arms. To brush back her silvery hair; to stroke her arms and hold her close; to protect her from the daemons that chase her into the eternal night.

Being by her side is all that matters now, when societies crumbled and everyone’s dead.

Being by her side makes Cindy feel like she’s enough.

~

“Hey,” A voice whispers, when the lamps have been switched off and the curtains have been drawn. Bleary-eyed, Cindy awakens, blinking slowly in an attempt to identify the mass in front of her. It only takes a few seconds before it clicks again.

“‘Nea?” She asks, though she knows the answer. Her head collapses back into the pillow, which is Aranea’s chest. When she hears a laugh, she snuggles deeper and ignores it, blindly grasping at the threadbare blankets and pulling them up to her chin. 

“We’ve got work to do, love.” Aranea prompts, in a voice so soft, it makes Cindy’s heart melt. When that doesn’t appear to work, she adds, “Prompto’s back.”

“He got th’ food?”

“He’s brought the food, dear, and it’s cooking right now. Smells like a feast fit for a Queen through there.” She coaxes, and Cindy lifts her head high enough to sniff. Her stomach groans.

“Can y’ carry me?”

“Babe, you’re in a tank top and _only _a tank top. I don’t think the guests want an eyeful of _all that _.” Aranea teases. Cindy just groans. “But I’ll carry you over if you get dressed. How about that?”

Twenty minutes later, Cindy is following the source of the smell, with Aranea hot on her heels. Eventually, Cindy had taken so long to get ready that Aranea had to step in, gathering up her clothes and tossing them at her just so she could finally eat.

Cindy’s surprised to find so many people gathered around their small table. As is Aranea, if the sound of surprise behind her is any indication.

“When did you guys all arrive?” She asks, looking towards Ignis, Iris, and Gladio. The former of the trio is stood by the stove, flipping over the slab of Garula steak, whilst directing a focused Iris on how to properly prepare the sauce. Gladio, taking no responsibility in the kitchen due to the incident appropriately deemed _The First And Last Time Gladiolus Was Allowed To Cook _, sits in the corner and talks to Prompto, who seems to be pretending he isn’t being chided for his overly reckless behaviour again.

In another corner, there’s a gathering of hunters: Dave, Libertus, Sania, and— somehow the most surprising of the bunch— Cor. Pawpaw sits among them, listening to them share their stories of the Olden Days with which would be a somewhat wistful expression, if it weren’t Pawpaw. He doesn’t _do_wistful.

Cindy doesn’t even know how she could have missed the appearance of such a group, especially when none are particularly the quiet type. 

“There gonna be any left for me?” Cindy asks and Ignis glances over.

“I assure you, there should be enough to last a few days.” He pauses. “Or there would be, if Gladio wasn’t here.”—

_“I heard that!”—_

“Prompto made sure to collect an extra round of rations when he heard we were all coming, so I wouldn’t worry.” Ignis reiterates. “I’ve about finished. Would you care to call the rest of us to tea?”

“‘Course!” She says, but before she can even think to raise her voice, a swarm of hungry people have already appeared around her, clearly having been listening in for updates. “I suppose I’d better help serve up, then.”

She starts loading up plates, beaming when everyone gives her an appreciative _“thank you!” _. When she glances around the room, she notices Aranea talking to Cor in the corner, one of the few still left to move. Surprisingly, Cor seems to be almost _smiling— _not his typical, laidback smirk either, which is impressive— as Aranea talks, focused on whatever topic she’s discussing. 

In that moment, Cindy just thinks, “I’d _kill _for her.”

It’s almost startling with what ease she realises it. She’d do a lot to save the world but she’d do more for the girl that’s sitting so wonderful in front of her. The way she grins is lighting up the room, as her hands wave through the air like she’d being paid to move. With an energy so pure and delighted that someone’s actually listening, she rattles off every needless word that means the world to Cindy.

She’s distracted when someone clears their throat. Prompto laughs nervously, following her gaze, before looking back to her, a soft look on his face. “I don’t mind serving myself!” He declares with all of his confidence that he never seems to lose. She grabs a plate anyway, grabbing a few of the thicker slices of meat (that boy always was too thin for her standards), along with a good amount of vegetables to go on the side. 

“Nonsense.” She says, pretending she hadn’t been in an entirely different world, where everything’s okay. “You’re the one who brought us the food after all.”

They both pause for a second, where Prompto holds his plate but doesn’t quite move. Cindy waits patiently for him to speak.

The seconds tick on by, and then, “For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you two-” He seems almost nervous as he says it, eyes admiring the aged, wooden floorboards beneath his feet; he can’t seem to maintain eye contact, immediately glancing away after he establishes it- “I know I always, uh… Always spoke with you back then but… I guess it didn’t really mean anything, y’know.”

“You mean..?”

“Yeah, me too,” Prompto admits it in a rush. “I just… I guess I was always nervous with it.”

They’re lucky that Prompto was the last one in line; by now, Gladio’s started sending inquisitive looks over, probably wondering what’s taking so long. The silence takes over again, lasting a few beats before Cindy says, “I’m glad y’ told me.”

“I’m glad you found someone,” Prompto replies. 

“Did you ever…”

“Yeah.” The reply is immediate. Cindy almost regrets asking, when she sees the look that’s covered his face. Instead of his eyes flicking around, they now remain in one spot, as if reflecting on the times they’d spend together. “He’s, uh. You know.”

“Ah,” Cindy says, understandingly. 

“He’ll be back soon, though,” Prompto reassures, and he nods firmly to accompany it. It's clear he believes it. “I just know it!”

“ _Ah _,” Cindy repeats, knowingly. “We won’t be waitin’ long, I hope-” Prompto nods at that, almost forgetting he’s still holding a plate in his hand- “You’d better eat that now before it gets cold.”

“Oh, fuck!” Prompto declares. “Seeya, Cindy!”

And off he goes, giving his compliments to Ignis as he digs in. Cindy wanders over to Aranea’s side, sitting down after grabbing her own plate. Their chairs are close enough that their thighs are touching. Though the lights are dim, Cindy can still see the hand that reaches down to stroke her knee, a comforting gesture that she didn’t know she needed.

“Heya, Cor.” Cindy greets. It seems that he’s alone now, as he hadn’t gotten up to grab any food. “You aren’t hungry?”

“I already ate.” He says, voice even. It doesn’t seem like a lie. “No need to waste food, I suppose.”

No one can argue with that.

Cindy digs in whilst Aranea and Cor continue to talk; it’s about nothing terribly important, just a recollection of stories that they’re willing to share. She listens with a rapt interest anyway. Anything about Aranea is interesting to her, and the Marshall himself isn’t too bad with the stories either.

Absentmindedly, halfway through a particularly funny tale, Aranea shifts herself in her seat, with the end goal of slinging her arm over Cindy’s chair. It’s all perfectly natural and done in a way that Cindy didn’t even realise that she was leaning into the touch. She doubts Aranea even meant to do it, as there isn't a single moment where she falters within her story.

But Cor watches, eyes flicking between the two as if solving a puzzle, if it were one made up of 250 easily sorted pieces, specifically targeted towards younger children.

Aranea finishes up her tale soon enough, earning a chuckle out of him. She looks incredibly pleased by this, before she straightens out her face, covering it up again.

“So,” Cor starts. “When did you two get together?”

_It’s almost like déjà vu _, Cindy thinks, as she glances between Aranea and Cor, unsure whether to deny it or not. Aranea doesn’t appear worried, though. In fact, she seems to glow a little brighter as she brags, “Almost a year now, actually!”

Then she turns and places a kiss on Cindy’s cheek. She can’t hide the blush this time, even in the shoddy lighting. 

“I’m happy for you two,” Cor says. He sounds so earnest, so quietly proud, that Cindy can’t find it in her to be scared. “I don’t know anybody here who would ever be… Uptight about this sort of thing but if you ever need someone in your corner, know that you’ve got me.”

Cindy decides, there and then, that Cor is on the list of people she’d die for too. Subtly rubbing her eyes and pretending that she isn’t going to cry in the old once-diner-now-whatever room, she mumbles a small, “Thank you.” It comes from the very bottom of her heart.

The rest of the dinner flies by in a blur. Cindy isn’t really sure she remembers it all because the only thing she could think about was how she was surrounded by such _good _people. It’s a feeling that will carry her through the next few weeks, easily.

Her hope in the world is renewed, even in the Gods that came and screwed them all over. Still, she hopes Noctis returns soon; there's only so much she can take of everyone else suffering. She's not sure anyone else can handle much more upon their plates either.

Now, everyone's holding onto the small aspirations to keep them fighting. Some want to see the sunrise one more time, or be able to hold a picnic under the cloudless sky. Others only wish to be reunited with those they have lost.

Cindy wants to love and love endlessly, without the constant fear that one day she’s going to have to love someone that's lost. She only wants everyone to be happy again, and scarless again, and doing something more than just _surviving _.

If only it would all come to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i'm sorry this took over ten months! i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> you can listen to my FFXV playlist [here!](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_rSVvI_mwOzblAt0IjaLoTNJNZ07ZIZu) & you can look at my pinterest [here!!](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/hokseok/) (i have ffxv boards!)


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